As the sun beats down on the asphalt, a convoy of motorcycles rumbles to a halt. The gang dismounts, their boots crunching on the gravel as they seek shade and solace in each other's arms. With a grunt, they arrange themselves in a missionary formation, the woman's legs wrapping around her partner's waist as he plunges deep, the others watching, waiting for their turn, their collective moans a symphony to the hum of the distant highway.